Different
by wittyness
Summary: "So what?""Huh?""What if you're a freak? I'm a freak too! All the great people are! So what?""Very funny.""I'm not joking. Since when is it not okay to be a freak? At least we stand out from the crowd. At least we're staying who we are.""You're crazy.""That's the idea." Warnings: OC's, Abuse, OCD, Cursing, Gay Relationship, Completely AU, Derogatory Name...Etc.
1. Prologue

The story starts as most do: a bitter sweet disposition into the ever expanding situation. The curtain opens but the characters are nowhere to be found, instead a boy holding a book stands in their place. He smiles up into the crowd of people, each one faceless, looking every bit the same, and then after a long pause, he begins to read what seems to be a prologue.

Different


	2. 1

The first time I noticed my best friend was different was back in middle school.

He had come in looking a bit twitchy and afraid, flicking his fingers back and forth as the teacher started lecturing the class about being on time. Nero was never one for being the center of attention; he usually kept to himself, only ever talking to me or his older brother Credo.

He always told me that he felt uneasy in crowds, said he didn't like when other people took up his breathing room. I usually laughed it off and told him the uneasiness would most likely fade as we got older, sometimes you just tend to feel helpless as a kid.

Of course, I had been wrong.

Things only got worse.

Once Nero and I hit eighth grade, it became more apparent that he was dealing with serious problems. We couldn't eat in any place that held a crowd, no fast food restaurants or cafes. He told me he didn't like when everyone's voices morphed together, described it as a loud buzzing sound ringing in his ears.

I did everything to accommodate Nero, me and him had been together since early grade school, best friends in all sense of the word, I wasn't just going to abandon him because he was slightly different from the rest.

So, on most days we'd hang out in quiet spots and talk about all the places we wanted to be at besides this shitty town. Nero had always wanted to go to New York or Los Angeles, any place 'where the city lights sparkled like a million tiny stars.' I told him I'd follow him wherever he ended up going, we'd get an apartment together and start our own business. We could meet new people everyday and be our own bosses.

Nero always called me an idealist and I always told him we had control over our own lives, no fate or god writing our stories out, if he wanted something then he could go and get it. It's as simple as that.

My best friend always smiled when I said such things, even if he thought I was living in a fantasy world.

Once Nero and I hit ninth grade his behavior morphed and changed into something far worse then before. We had sat on my roof top the night before new years and watched as the stars shined brightly. Nero had confessed to me that night that he had developed some weird obsessive behavior.

His rituals.

He told me that every night before going to bed –for whatever reason- he touched the wall nine times and washed his hands until they were raw. I didn't understand at first what that meant.

After all, small towns make small minds.

The rest of the year however, I observed Nero's actions. He'd count his steps when we walked and washed his hands multiple times for no apparent reason. He insisted on touching random trees and walls, mumbling about how he just 'had the sudden urge to do it.' I became even more worried with every crazy ritual he came up with.

Soon I started plotting different ways to help him become normal again.

My first plan was to help Nero be more social. Most days it was just me and him hanging out and keeping to ourselves, he didn't have any other friends besides me and…maybe that was part of the problem.

The first person I introduced into our friendship was Trevean Fulgur. He stood at 6 foot, two inches tall, lean body with stubble already forming on his face. To put it bluntly, the kid was a frickin giant!

He was the sport-sy type of course, every coach wanted him on their team despite the fact that he had insisted he didn't have time for extra curricular activities. Trevean was friendly and charismatic, always helping others and doing good deeds. He was the epitome of what a jock should be; if it weren't for the fact that he had to use most of his free time to take care of his sick mother, maybe Dan would have had a larger group of friends.

Either way, most lunches I had spied him eating by himself and decided one day to invite him over to our table.

Nero was wary at first; clueless as to why I had invited somebody to our table out of the blue. I laughed it off and said that Trev would be good for scaring off bullies. Which, as it turns out, he was.

Him and I got along fairly well but…Nero started putting up a reserved wall when Trev was around. He'd stay quiet during lunch and only spoke when asked a direct question.

Frustrated, I had added a fourth member to our group: Kyle Matio.

Kyle already knew me and Nero for quite awhile beforehand actually. His older brother was friends with Nero's older brother and occasionally he'd hang out with us outside of school. He was a quiet kid, always sketching in his notebook and chattering on about how he traced back his bloodlines and found that he was related to Picasso in some weird way.

He and I never got along.

Kyle was slightly annoying and in my opinion: a compulsive liar. But, seeing how the kid was just as reserved and quiet as Nero was, I thought they'd get along swimmingly. Of course, my theory had backfired when Nero came up to me one day and said 'Kyle couldn't tell the truth to save his ass.'

Turns out Nero hated him as much as I did.

Go figure.

As summer came fast approaching, I decided to add one more member to our little group of loonies.

His name was Casey Wilson but everyone called him 'Spacey.' The kid was a jokester and a slacker and he usually took trips to the principles office on a daily basis. I would also come to find that he was a stoner, which is apparently how his nickname came to be.

Spacey was always laid back and his motto was 'let life flow like an ocean.' I never understood what that meant. Actually, I never understood what half the things he said meant. He always talked in metaphors and hippie langue.

Surprisingly though, Nero took a liking to him.

He never told me why, but sometimes I suspect it was some sort of idolization. Nero looked up to spacey, he wanted his laid back attitude and 'take life as it comes' personality. At first I was bit cautious, last thing I wanted was for my best friend to get hooked on any kind of drugs but after some time, I realized the fascination was harmless.

So, for awhile things were pretty good. Nero had been becoming a bit more social and our little group had actually worked together quite nicely. Essentially we were the out casts of the school, all for different reasons and problems. That's decidedly why we worked so well together, we all had a mutual understanding.

Ninth grade had ended on a good note; each of us had gone our separate ways for the summer (including me) and for once, we were all looking forward to the school year to come.

That summer I had gone to Texas to visit my family while Nero stayed at home and worked on his photography. We talked on the phone once a week and from the sounds of it, he was doing pretty decent.

Then, I came home to find that he was a complete and total mess.

The night that I had arrived back, Nero had knocked on my window with a whimper. I was startled at first but opened the window quickly when I realized it was him. He fell onto my room floor sobbing and smelling like he hadn't showered in days. Nero told me about how his parents called him a freak. He told me how his rituals had gotten worse, constantly counting steps and touching random objects. His anxiety had also increased; he couldn't bear to be in crowded stores or places in general.

Things were not the lovely picture Nero had painted, apparently they were far worse then my fifteen year old brain could deal with.


	3. 2

Tenth grade had started off with a bang.

Somehow, on the first day of school, all five of us had ended up in detention for completely separate reasons.

Trevean had apparently been hit on by the school's football coach. Said coach was promptly knocked cold. Unfortunately, the school didn't believe Trevean's story, they pegged him as another teenage 'time bomb' and sent him off to detention. Trevean, always the optimistic one, said he was just thankful the coach didn't press charges against him.

Kyle's story was a bit more intricate. Last June he had come in boasting to us that he had gotten out of taking a pretty major test by lying to his teacher and saying he spent all his time in the hospital watching his terminally ill younger brother and helping his parents pay for the hospital bills any way he could.

It was actually a pretty decent lie, problem was: Kyle didn't have a younger brother.

See, the key to a good lie is to throw in things that you could actually back up, other wise you're just talking out of your ass.

Obviously Kyle didn't get the memo.

So, over the summer Mrs. Adkins apparently felt so bad for him that she arranged a charity to raise money for Kyle's imaginary younger brother and his imaginary illness. From then on, things came full circle and by the end of the summer, Kyle's fiasco was up and a lot of people were coming after him with metaphorical pitch forks.

Kyle Matio now had detention everyday after school until he graduated.

Can't say I feel too much sympathy.

Next in line was Spacey. Do I really need to tell you how he got detention? A little tip: when you smoke a blunt at school, do it outside or open a window. Don't flood the boy's bathroom with smoke and cause poor unsuspecting freshmen to become potential Snoop Doggs.

And how did I get detention?

I over heard some upperclassman call Nero a freak. Then I proceeded to beat his pretty little face in. End of story.

Nero of course had the most humiliating story of us all and to this day, none of the guys really know what happened. Apparently his locker had been 'randomly'searched (Random! Ha!) and they found something my small town deemed as disturbing.

A gay porno magazine.

It was that day that I realized my best friend was different in another way as well. And somehow, that thought had scared me the living shit out of me.

Most of tenth grade went on smoothly.

Nero was still dealing with his obsessive behavior (not to mention panic attacks, high anxiety, and slight paranoid feelings) and I was doing all I could to help him through it. His parents had all but disowned him by the middle of the year; they couldn't handle his weird quirks and flaws.

My uncle Virgil always told me 'people tend to be afraid of things they don't understand.' He was a wise guy that apparently fought in one of the wars (he never actually told me which one though) and he was constantly doing a combination of quoting dead people and chewing gum.

My mother and father called him crazy but I never believed he was.

Although 'people tend to be afraid of things they don't understand' is a true statement, in my opinion, if you're not ready to except your children for who they are, you shouldn't become a parent in the first place. Use a condom. Do the world (and your potentially miserable child) a favor.

Most nights Nero ran away from home and climbed through my window. He'd curl up next to me and I'd unconsciously hug him closer to my chest, protecting my best friend from all the evil that the world threw at him. In my eyes he wasn't crazy or weird or different.

He was just…Nero.

Unfortunately, nobody saw that but me andby the end of tenth grade, the guys had told me they felt uncomfortable around Nero (except for Spacey, who didn't know what was going on half the time.)

They said he talked to himself when I leave his side and he twitches allot when we walk through the crowded hallways. Of course, the real truth didn't come out until Kyle blurted out the fact that there were rumors going around that Nero was a fag.

That was why they didn't like him.

That was why they thought he was weird.

Just because Nero may or may not like guys.

It was a ridiculous concept to me, judging somebody because of their sexuality. Every Sunday it's drilled into us that homosexuality is wrong, that if you lye with another man then it's a one way ticket to hell. But like I said before, either way Nero was still Nero. He was still my best friend.

So I gave Kyle an icy look before promptly punching him in the face.

And that was that. We never hung out with those guys again (although a bunch of hideous rumors had aroused because of it.) Nero had all the while put the blame on himself. He was convinced it was his fault I didn't have any friends besides him. He was convinced he was bringing me down.

Most of the summer before we hit eleventh grade was spent with Nero being depressed half the time and me convincing him it was all alright. He never actually listened to me of course; Nero was as stubborn as a mule.


	4. 3

Eleventh grade had to be one of the worst Nero and I had endured.

Apparently Kyle had taken it upon himself to tell the entire school that Nero and I were gay for each other.

The up roar began with the seniors (since they were above us and therefore held the power.) We were harassed day in and day out, usually finding our lockers vandalized or being cornered and beat up. Most of the time I'd take the beatings for Nero, he'd freak out on me later but I just couldn't bare to see anything happen to him.

Things only got worse as each grade started to join in on the 'fun.'

It got so bad at one point that we were even being harassed by freshmen. The teachers all the while would turn their backs and pretend they didn't know what was going on.

In my opinion: most adults are a waste of skin.

All of the chaos had taken a dangerous toll on Nero. I remember the first night he told me about his little self 'healing.'

He climbed through my window sobbing that his life was so utterly screwed up and that he hated himself for all the misery he put me through. Then he confessed to all the self inflicted burns on his stomach. Each one looked worse then the last. He had a total of ten self inflicted burns marring his perfect pale torso. Each burn was another symbol for not only all the people he hated, but for all the hatred he held for himself.

I'd come to find that Eleventh grade was the start of Nero's down fall.

The self injury only got worse as the year progressed. Every month it'd seem that the methods got more cruel and harder to swallow. A part of me wanted to get him help but another part of me felt like I'd be betraying him in some twisted way. I didn't want the adults to strap him down and stick him in a mental hospital; I was much too selfish to ever let that happen. But I just couldn't sit back and watch him drown in self hatred, I needed to jump in and save him. I needed to be his lifeguard because who else would? His parents? Fat chance, they couldn't do something right if it saved their lives.

Speaking of parents, mine were none to pleased with all the time I'd been spending with Nero. They kept asking when I'd bring a girl home or if there was anybody I was interested in. I'd scoff and they'd get mad and it'd turn into a rollercoaster from there.

Things were difficult in our small town; each street had turned into a prison for me and Nero. Each adult had turned into another threat. And by the time summer had come around, the both of us were planning our escape for when graduation rolled around.

* * *

I don't know where this story is gunna go but hey I just wrote 3 chapters in one day so I'm just gunna roll with it.


	5. 4 aka The moment of Truth!

Twelfth grade had thankfully gone by fairly quickly.

Nero and I avoided people like the plague, skipping lunch altogether and all but hiding in the library everyday. I had to reassure my best friend quite often, telling him that life outside of this godforsaken hell hole was right outside of a fairytale book. We would run off to California where we wouldn't be judged or harassed, because everyone is different there. I'm not sure if Nero ever really believed me, no doubt he trusted me absolutely, but his eyes told me he was…afraid to hope for something that was too good to be true.

And yet, despite his agnosticism, I continued to reassure him anyways.

Everything ultimately paid off when graduation day came, the two of us smiling like high school never actually happed, adorned in royal blue caps and gowns, not caring one bit that we looked like dorks.

Neither of our families had attended (except my uncle Virgil) which was okay, we had already decided by then that we didn't need them.

I'll never forget watching Nero receive his diploma, the way my stomach tightened as he walked across stage, eyes slanted towards the ground, cap falling off his head. I'll never forget how proud I felt.

But most importantly: I'll never forget the sudden realization that had hit me.

What I felt for Nero went far beyond friendship.


	6. Tiny

The setting changes and the characters arise; the audience is silent as the spot light grows brighter. Two boys take charge of their attentions, one is smiling cheerily, and one is looking sullen. This, as the audience can already tell, is only the beginning.


	7. I made up for the tiny

Nero and I had eventually made it to California.

We took all the money we had saved over the last eighteen years and put it into the lives we wanted to start. Eventually we ended up in an apartment in Los Angeles, over looking a park that was usually filled with scattered (annoying) kids. I found a job at a local office supply store and Nero started taking online college classes.

All was good.

Well…except for the fact that I might have a thing for my best friend.

"What do you mean you hate KFC? How have we been friends forever and I'm just finding out about this now?"

Nero merely shrugged as he continued to count the tiles while pacing back and forth in our tiny apartment kitchen. "I guess the topic just never came up."

"Well," I sighed from my place on the couch. "Why don't you like it exactly?"

"Too greasy."

"Says the kid who loves Taco Bell."

"Taco Bell isn't greasy!"

"If Taco Bell isn't greasy then I'm Al Gore." I paused, eyebrows drawing together. "I think I'm too young to be making that reference."

"And I think I'm too young to understand exactly what you mean."

Not that it's a secret but Nero and I?

We're two of a kind.

"Dante?"

"Hm?"

"How come you never date any, y'know, girls? I mean, you know I can't get a date to save my life but that doesn't mean you have to be dateless just because I am."

"I'm dateless because I want to be. Guess I haven't found the right one yet."

Or maybe he's standing right in front of me.

"And what will happen? When you find the right one I mean?"

"I'll make sure that person knows how I feel, even if they don't love me back."

"You'd be okay with un requited love? Wouldn't it kill you?"

"Love can't kill you Nero, only hatred can. And what's with the twenty questions? Don't you have school work to be finishing?"

"I'm procrastinating. Sue me."

"Well, can you at least sit down? Your pacing is giving me a headache."

"Fine, fine." Nero counted his steps as came towards the couch and sat down. His rituals haddied down a bit but his intense anxiety still hasn't improved even though we were away from the stress of high school.

I eyed his arm, self inflicted scars still visible under the fluorescent living room light. "Have they…healed?"

Nero, figuring out what I was referring to, immediately tensed up. "Yes." He replied, crossing his arm over his chest so that I couldn't see the scars anymore.

"You don't have to be that way y'know. I was just asking."

"I know and I'm sorry, you just know how touchy I am about that topic."

"Yeah." I said quietly, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible. "Did you see the vacant building for rent on Van Nuys Boulevard?"

"Yeah. It's the perfect location; whoever nabs that up is a lucky bastard."

"Well, you might as well call me Mr. lucky because I'm meeting up with the previous owner tomorrow to discuss payment!"

"What?! That's fuckin awesome Dante!"

"I know, right?! We can finally open that Italian restaurant that we've been swooning over since middle school."

"As I recall, you want Italian, I want a burger joint."

"Italian burgers?" I offered.

"Har har. Anyways, we don't have to discuss the gritty details now. Why don't we just celebrate?"

"Well, I could call up Trish. She can bring over some champagne from her parent's house."

Nero's face fell just a tiny bit, I almost missed it.

Almost.

"Yeah. That would be cool."

I still can't really figure out why Nero and Trish don't get along. Her and I had met a couple months ago when me and Nero and just arrived, offering a sweet smile and friendly conversation at work. She was living in the city with her parents, managing her career as a starving artist and her job at Office-max.

A couple weeks after the initial meeting, I brought her over and introduced her to Nero. By day's end it was apparent the two just didn't like each other. Nero blamed it in being antisocial and Trish brushed it off as just having nothing in common. But me, being the pushy type, keep trying to force the two to become friends. That was just the way I was, pushy.

When I was little, I liked to smash the puzzle pieces together when they didn't fit properly.

"Hello? Trish?" I asked warmly when she picked up.

"Hey Dante, what's up?"

"Well, Nero and I are finally on track to opening our own restaurant!"

"Oh my gosh, that's great! I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks. So, we were wondering if you could bring some bubbly over and celebrate with us?"

"Totally!" She cheered. "Just give me a half hour."

"Alright." The both of us quickly said goodbye and she hung up in a rush; Nero was all the while looking as sullen as ever.

"I still don't understand why she has to come over."

"Because she's our friend."

"Correction Dante: your friend. Not mine."

"Please don't be that way. She hasn't been anything but nice to us."

Nero rolled his eyes, standing up and twirling around purposely. "Oh look at me, I'm so peppy and annoying! wee!" He hopped in the air like a ballerina and twirled around once more. "I'm blond and ditzy! OMFG! WTF! Other dumb text lingo!" Nero fell back onto the carpet. "Blond bimbo."

"Do you always have to be exceptionally antisocial?"

"Yes."

"Glad to see you care so much about my well being Nero."

"You're welcome."

"Fine, if you want to be that way then why don't you just stay in your dam room tonight?"

"And miss a chance to annoy miss bimbo? No way."

"Nero Albo Eques, you better not!"

"What, are you my mother now?"

"Ouch."

"Hey, if the boot fits."

"You know what? I'm just going to get ready."

"Yeah, go put on your smelly perfume."

"It's cologne, thank you very much! And you said it smelled good!" Nero snorted and I flipped him off as fondly as possible, making my way into the bathroom.

"At least hear me out on this," Nero called from his spot in the couch. "She claims to be some sort of starving artist but she lives with her ultra rich family in their ultra rich mansion. She probably eats caviar everyday and wipes her ass with hundred dollar bills. And last week when I mentioned Wal-Mart in whatever stupid conversation we were having to pass time, she asked me what that was. Can you believe it? Wal-Mart! But you know what she asked next, something incredibly unbelievable?"

"What?" I called out hesitantly.

"She asked me if they sold walls there."

* * *

I love Trish sorry I made her so blonde


	8. 7 You might hate Trish

Predictably, the night wasn't going as good as I had stupidly hoped.

The minute Trish walked through the door; Nero had built a wall around himself, either being extremely quiet or extremely obnoxious. "So, exactly what kind of art do you do, huh?" Nero asked, sipping on his champagne as an after thought.

"The good kind."

A snort on Nero's part. "No, I mean do you do visual arts or sculpting? Do you paint people, places, events, issues, themes…"

"Everything." She answered, noticeably becoming flustered and confused.

"That's a broad spectrum you go there Tri."

"Trish. Only my parents call me Trish."

"Whatever." Probably adding 'not that it matters' mentally.

"What about you?" She asked, forcing a smile. "What do you do?"

"I take online classes."

"Really," She crinkled her nose. "Why don't you just enroll in a normal college?"

"Personal reasons."

"Like?"

"Like it's none of your business."

Trish made a weird noise between a squeak and scoff, narrowing her eyes and turning her mouth into a grim line. The two of them were practically at each other's throats, each tensed to attack like wild animals.

"Alright," I cut in. "Why don't we play a game of monopoly, hm?"

The both of them nodded, still visibly tense as I pulled the game board out and set it up on the table. Nero snatched the little metal thumbtack right as Trish was reaching for it. "I call thumbtack."

"Fine." She grunted, grabbing a little metal car. I grabbed a little metal top hat, placing it next to theirs.

While I was handing out the bountiful of colored money, I noticed Nero twitching a bit, switching around pieces on the game board and things still in side the box.

Immediately I knew this was a red flag.

"Hey! Stop touching things and stop," She grabbed her little metal car from his hand. "Taking my car!"

"No," He squeaked, spasming rapidly. "Just let me put it on the other side of the table. Please."

"No!" Nero became more persistent, trying desperately to grab the tiny little piece of junk from her grasp. "I need it!"

"No! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Trish shoved him away violently before backtracking to yell in his face. "There's something seriously wrong with you! You need help!"

"Trish…"

"No Dante! This kid is fuckin crazy!" Nero recoiled away from her shouting, face scrunching up in horror. "How can you even hang around with him, he's twitching like he's on something!"

"Trish."

"You…you fuckin freak!"

Nero pulled himself into the nearest corner, curling in a tiny ball.

"Trish!"

Her attention finally snapped away from the shaking Nero, face distorted with fear. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Just get out." I hissed, causing her to grab her purse and sprint for the door without a second thought.

All my thoughts consisted of were Nero, Nero, Nero. I needed to know he was okay. I needed to know he was alright. I needed to know like my life depended on it.

Nero was all the while curled up in the corner, rocking back and forth while silently crying desperate tears. His hair was a mess and his face was slightly red. His breathing was rapid, each breath shallow and long and loud.

Nero was hyperventilating.

"Nero?" My best friend merely let out a broken sob in response, collapsing into my arms once I reached him. "Everything will be alright. Don't listen to what she said. She's a bimbo, remember?"

"But she's right! Look at me Dante! I can't go to a regular school. I can't play a board game without craving my rituals. I can't even have a normal evening without screwing everything up. I'm a freak!"

I realized at that point, no matter how much I tried to reassure him, he would still look at himself through the eyes of people that hated him. The people that didn't matter. I just wish he would look at himself through my eyes. That he would see himself the way I see him.

So instead of another hour of coo's and reassurance, I decided to try a different method. "So what?"

"Huh?"

"What if you're a freak? I'm a freak too! All the great people are! So what?"

"Very funny." He squeaked, still burying his face in my chest.

"I'm not joking. Since when is it not okay to be a freak? At least we stand out from the crowd. At least we're staying who we are."

"You're crazy." He whispered, breathing finally under control.

"That's the idea."

And this was my second attempt at fixing something I had no business attempting in the first place.


	9. 8

The lights brighten dramatically. The setting changes to one of particularly cheery interest. The entire scene gives off a 'montage' illusion. The audience knows the play is giving higher depth to the situation at hand.


	10. 9

"This is so…surreal y'know? Painting and buying furniture for our soon to be…restaurant." Nero said the word as if the entire concept was too good to be true, which really, wasn't so hard to understand.

We ended up nabbing the place on Van Nuys Boulevard. The owner, J.D. Morisson, told me he saw a lot of himself in me, offering his complete and total support.

I just found it disturbing that an old unmarried fat guy 'saw himself in me.'

Nero never really recovered from Trish's comments, despite how many times I told him freaks were cool. It isn't exactly easy to convince him when everywhere he turns; somebody is telling him other wise.

Meanwhile, Trish had left me several voicemails and text messages, apologizing for being a bitch and I considered forgiving her on more then one occasion, just so that things would be less awkward at work.

Anyways, the main thing to focus on was the fact that our goals were finally coming to life, that everything was falling into place.

Finally.

"Hey Ne…ro!" I slowly walked towards him with a malicious smile, hands dripping in blood red paint.

"What are you doing?" He squeaked.

"I just wanna…give you a hug."

Nero started backing away as I reached my hands forward, arms flailing around spastically. "No! Get away from me!" He yelled, giggling playfully.

"Oh come on, just one hug!"

"No!"

"Please?"

"No!"

Nero finally started sprinting towards the other side of the room, me sprinting after him while laughing joyously. It was one of those 'Kodak' moments that you see on TV and in magazines, the both of us grinning and running around like little kids. My face almost hurt from the way the skin pulled back to reveal my teeth, the smile not dying down anytime soon.

"Get your but over here so I can give you a hug!"

"You'll never take me alive!"

"Wanna bet?" I jumped up as far as possibly, successfully latching onto his back and throwing him onto the tarp covered ground, with me on top of him. "Got-cha." I whispered into the shell of his ear.

Nero grunted and turned over to face me. "No fair…" He breathed.

Really, he was a sight to be hold. His face was flushed red, his hair was damp and mussed, his chest was rising and falling rapidly. I could feel his heart beat, pounding faster then I've ever heard it before.

Bada boom.

Bada boom.

Bada boom.

My own heart was racing as well, the pulse pounding behind my ears, reminding me how close the two of us were. Our noses were practically touching and his breath blew across my lips, causing my stomach to erupt in a million and one butterflies.

"Nero?" I whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I think-"

Suddenly I heard a jingle come from the front door and somebody call out 'hello' in a thick Italian accent. Nero and I parted in a haste, the both of us sliding to opposite sides of the soon-to-be restaurant.

"Boys? I came to check how things were going?"

"Great." Nero grunted.

"They're going fine Mr. Morisson; we just had a little miss hap with the paint."

"Alright. Are you still going to Petey's today?" Petey's was a large, fairly cheap emporium that sold restaurant and hotel furniture in bundles for good prices. Mr. Morisson insisted we get a move on, time is money after all.

"Yes, Nero and I want to get a good look at what they have to offer."

"That's good, that's good. You know I believe in you two, don't let me down."

I gave a half assed salute. "Aye aye sir." Mr. Morisson smiled before disappearing into the empty kitchen. "Maybe we should get cleaned up?" I offered, feeling intensely awkward and slightly guilty.

It all came crashing back down at the same time, a brash realization hitting me. I'd almost kissed my best friend.

So, maybe this wasn't something to be ashamed of.

But it wasn't something to be proud of either.

For one thing, I didn't exactly know how he felt. And another thing (probably the most important thing): I didn't know how I felt. I couldn't toy with his emotions, not if I don't know for sure. I couldn't even bare the thought of hurting him

"Yeah, lets go get our clothes in the back room."

Nero and I stood impishly, tattered clothes covered in paint, faces still slightly flushed.

I wondered, more intensely then ever before in my life, what was going through his head at the moment? Did he even realize how close we had come to having some romance movie moment?

"So…" I whistled.

"Have you talked to Trish? I feel a little bad about messing up your guy's celebration a couple weeks ago." He finished.

"No. She deserves the silent treatment."

"I…I don't think she does."

"What the heck has gotten into you? Just last week you were saying how annoying and bitchy she was."

"Yeah but I realized…you like her, you guys are friends and I don't want to mess that up Dante."

"You're not messing up anything." I said sternly once we reached the back room, pulling my shirt above my head. "She needs a little time to think about what she said."

"She's not five."

I rolled my eyes, replacing my shirt and pulling off my pants. "She might as well be."

Nero shrugged and I thanked the heavens that he was a quick changer, last thing I need is more intense awkwardness.

"But…this isn't like you Dante. You don't, not like people."

"I don't like people that don't like you."

"But that's stupid!"

"Why? Because I refuse to dumb myself down for people that are narrow minded and ignorant?"

"Because you refuse to have your own life."

You are my life.

But I didn't say it out loud.

I couldn't.

Not yet.

"Can we just…talk about this later? I'd rather focus on the restaurant."

Instead of focusing on my attraction for you.

"Fine."

I had to resist the urge to sigh with relief as the two of us walked out the front door and down the street. The great thing about Petey's is that it was practically next door. Just a walk around the block and we were already at the entranceto the store with Mr. Petey himself standing there smiling as creepily as possible. "So glad you two could make it! We have huge sale going on today!"

"We're only here to look Mr. Petey."

"Of course, of course! Well whatever you take a liking to, we can always hold for you." He gave us a huge fake smile, coffee stained teeth looking exceptionally disgusting.

"Sure thing." I latched on to Nero's arm and dragged us away from the fake (almost robotic) man, trying not to jog as we trudged further and further into the large store. I spotted the carts and quickly pulled one out, gesturing to the inside with a smile.

"What?" Nero asked dubiously.

"Get in."

"What, am I four now?"

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

"People will stare."

"Who cares? We're freaks, remember?"

He grunted, hopping into the cart quickly. See, in my mind I kept thinking that if I got Nero to stopping caring what people thought, then maybe his paranoid feelings and rituals would start to go away. It was a desperate plan, a flawed plan, a slightly childish plan.

But it was all I could think of.

I started racing us down the isles, Nero squeaking loudly as we maneuvered past crowds of people.

"Houston, we have lift-off!"

"You're crazy you know that?!"

"Yeah! That's the idea!"

Eventually we made our way through a food court where a security guard suddenly started chasing us. The fat panting guy kept screaming at us to halt, as if we were actually committing some horrendous crime.

"Faster!" Nero screamed with a giggle. "He's gaining on us!"

"Tubs doesn't have a chance!" The two of us laughed, weaving in and out of isles manically, only cracking up further when the security guard stopped (clearly out of breath.)

"Where to, sir?" I asked in a fake British accent.

"To the bathroom appliances!"

I smiled, racing to the back of the store where large windows lay instead of blaring lights. The sun was dipping low but still shining bright, something that tended to happen in LA quite often. Yellow shapes were dusted across the gray flooring, light bouncing off each piece of furniture like never ending rainbows.

Nero hopped out of the cart, smiling when I sat in one of the large tubs on display. He sat across from me, legs resting on top of mine, causing my heart beat to quicken once again.

"How much trouble do you think we'll be in?"

"Who cares?"

"How do you always do that Dante?"

"Do what?"

"Not care. How do you not care?"

I shrugged. "I only care about what actually matters."

"Like me?"

"Well…yeah."

"And your parents?"

"No."

"What about Trish?"

"What about Trish?"

"You care about her, right?"

"A…little."

"It's still more then nothing." He pointed out.

"I don't know what your sudden fascination with Trish is, she's like…like this tub, it's cool to have around I suppose, but I don't really need it."

"So…we're sitting on Trish?"

"Pretty much."

"Awesome." He smiled, counting his fingers and pushing a string of hair back and forth. "So…what piece of furniture am I?"

"You're like…a bed. I need it, every single day. I feel uncomfortable without it. I can't sleep anywhere else; it just wouldn't be…the same."

Nero looked up at me, a square of light hitting his face and illuminating his wide blue eyes and the sheen of sweat just above his lip. He just kept…looking at me. He wouldn't look away for even a moment, his blinking decreased rapidly. He almost looked like he was about to say something, mouth almost opening.

Then the security guard finally found us.

Followed by the entire Petey's staff, including Mr. Petey himself.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

Nero immediately shrunk back into himself, face growing horror stricken and body starting to twitch and shake.

"Stupid kids." One employee hissed.

"They should learn some dam manners!" Another tuned in, until pretty much everyone was yelling insults at us.

It was like I was watching the entire thing in slow motion; Nero's face grew more and more distressed by the second. Everybody just kept coming at us from all angles. Didn't they know how to take a harmless joke? The worst part is: the both of us were cornered, stuck in this bathtub with no escape.

"I think they should pay for all the merchandise they knocked over on their little 'adventure.'"

"I think they should be banned!"

"I think we should call the police."

Nero squeaked, body shaking violently.

"Enough!" I shouted. "Just ban us and let us leave."

Some of the workers agreed, most of them protested. Though, the only opinion that really mattered was Mr. Petey's, so when he nodded and gestured for us to leave, I almost felt like crying.

I took Nero's hand, pulled him up, pushed across the angry mob, and sprinted towards the door with him in tow. Once outside, I took him around the block and behind an old gas station.

"I…" he was panting frantically. "I…" His face almost looked purple. "I…can't…breath…"

"Shhh, calm down, we're alright. We're alright, Nero." His breath slowly started to become normal again as I rubbed his back soothingly.

"I..."

Twtich.

"Ran."

Twitch.

"Cant, cant, cant! Run. People! Hate!" He started mumbling incoherently, eyes growing crazy. "Store! Different!" He yelled. "Different!"

I looked at him, confused. "Nero…"

"I…I…" Nero trailed off, muttering crazy things under his breath. This was my first brush with Nero's apparent insanity.

And it definitely wasn't the last.


	11. small

That very night I had a nightmare that my best friend was put in a mental ward. I woke up with tears streaked across my face.


	12. 11

A week after our little trip to Petey's, Nero had apparently shrugged the whole thing off.

He didn't want to talk about it, discuss it, or even think about it. Truthfully, I didn't either. But it was still there, lurking in the back of my mind.

"How're you feeling?"

"Sleepy." He answered, the two of us splayed across the couch lazily.

"You're the one that insisted we watch chick flicks at twelve o clock in the morning."

"It seemed appealing when the commercial for the marathon came on."

"In what world does a marathon of chick flicks sound appealing?"

"An upside down one?" He offered.

I resisted the urge to call him crazy, knowing he would probably flinch upon hearing that five letter word.

This moment almost felt like déjà vu, a paradox to when we first met.

"That clothing store is for girly boys and homosexuals in the making. Is that what you want to be?"

"But dad," A five year old Nero whined. "I just want to look inside. It smells good."

As it turns out, the store was Abercrombie and Fitch and it did smell good. I was watching from afar, my mom had told me to stay put as they went to get food from the food court. Right off the bat the kid seemed familiar, like he might've been in my kindergarten class.

"No." The boy's mother hissed.

"Listen to your mother." His father added.

The boy stuck out his tongue and ran into the store insistently. The parents sighed, but instead of running in after the boy, they simply found a couple seats near by and waited.

Curiously I got up from my seat and wandered into the nice smelling store (against my parents orders.) Once inside, I became lost in a frenzy of really loud music and really intoxicating cologne. I kept looking around for the boy, walking around, trying not to breath in too much fumes. After about five minutes, I leaned against a clothes rack and sighed, thinking maybe he had slipped past me and already left.

I was definitely wrong.

He jumped out of the clothes, roaring at me face, quickly shying away when he saw my surprised reaction.

"S-Sorry. I got carried away."

"That's alright, your roar was really good!"

"Thanks. Hey…aren't you that kid that stuck a bug up his nose last week at school?"

"Yeah." I said impishly. "A doctor guy had to get that thing out."

"Awesome." He remarked.

"So…I'm Dante."

"I'm Nero."

"Wanna hide in the clothes and scare random people?"

"What about our parents?"

"Who cares?"

"You're crazy." He said with a giggle.

"That's the idea."


	13. 12

A month went by without anything with great interest happening.

We finally finished remodeling three-fourths of the restaurant and most days Nero didn't breakdown like he did back at Petey's. Speaking of which, he ended up canceling our contract with them and taking our business to IKEA.

I've been told though, that there's a picture up in the employee lounge that shows our pictures and the words 'DO NOT LET IN' underneath.

I got a good laugh at their nonexistent humors.

Meanwhile, things at work had been increasingly weird; I changed my shifts so Trish and I didn't have to see each other day in and day out. I eventually blocked her number and ultimately blocked her from my life.

That is, until I decided to answer the door (with somebody banging angrily on the other side.)

There she was, hair screwed up and face a mess, looking at me with pleading eyes.

"Trish…"

She pushed past me and entered my apartment without permission. "Why the hell did you block me?" She screeched.

"Isn't it obvious?"

All the while Nero was watching us hastily from the couch.

"No. Its really not. One fight and suddenly you don't want anything to do with me?"

"What you did," My fists clenched involuntarily. "Wasn't okay."

"I said I was sorry! How many times do I have to tell you? I'm sorry!"

"That's not good enough."

"Well I don't know what else to do! I'm going crazy here…I…I."

"Just leave."

"I can't!"

"Yes you can."

"No…I can't…"

"Why?"

"I think…I'm like…in love with you or somethin."

Nero abruptly started coughing.

"Like…I knew I was attracted to you but now I see it was more then just on a sexual level, I just can't…stop thinking about you Dante."

"Trish…"

"And you've flirted with me before…I know you have…"

"I…"

"God I feel so stupid, please, just say you like me too."

"I…"

"Please?"

"I don't."

Tears sprung to her eyes and immediately I felt like punching myself. Isn't it some godly rule that boys aren't supposed to make girls cry? But then again…they're not supposed to lie to them either.

"Are you sure?"

Of course I was.

"Yes."

"Oh." Then she picked up her purse and left without a second thought.

"What a drama queen!" Nero jumped up from his place on the couch. "Oh wah! I love you! I want to sound like every soap opera ever made!"

"I thought you said you didn't hate her anymore?"

"I never hated her; I just thought she was annoying. Look at the way she threw herself at you."

And then it hit me.

It hit me faster then a speeding train, faster then a bullet, faster then a jet. I can't believe I didn't see it before!

"You're jealous!" I accused in disbelief. "You're jealous because you actually thought I liked that wrench!"

"W-What?"

"You're jealous!" I stated once again, proud of myself for figuring out the mystery.

"No!"

"Yes, you are!" I advanced towards him, practically skipping. "You're Jealous! You're jealous!" I chanted. "Oh god this makes everything so much easier!"

"Uh…"

I looked him straight in the eyes, grinning. "I like you Nero." It was so simple, so understated.

So me.

"Like…"

"Like more then a best friend. Now, how does that make you feel?"

"G-Good."

So this was finally our moment, it was a long time coming but definitely worth it. It was short, cheerily one-sided and slightly awkward. But hey, that's life.

"Good." I leaned forward and pecked his lips giddily, so fast in fact, that Nero didn't even have time to react.

"Now we're boyfriends." I stated simply, skipping over to the couch.

"Wait, wait, wait! Hold up!"

"What?"

"What? You throw all this onto me and you ask what? This is crazy!"

I laughed, knowing the reply by heart. "That's the idea."

"No!" He shouted, running over to the couch.

"Don't you pull that stupid phrase on me again! We can't just brush this off! What about god casting us into the fiery pits of hell?!"

"Who cares?"

Nero glared, standing in front of me. I grabbed a hold of his wrists, dragging him down into my lap. He looked down at me with wide blue eyes, just like at Petey's. Except…this time I leaned in and gently captured his lips.

The kiss was shy and a bit sloppy from inexperience, but perfect all the same. Eventually I ran my tongue against the seam of his lips, not taking the initiative to pry them open, just enjoying the feel against my tongue. Finally Nero pulled back after a couple minutes, shaking his head.

"Fine." He whispered. "Who cares?"


	14. 13

The actors break through into a cheerier composition with a morbid whisper floating in the background.

In the next month or so, we eventually ended up going on a couple dates.

All unfortunately ended with us having to leave early, Nero really didn't like the restaurant crowds.

I half expected the whole thing to be weird, considering how long we've known each other, but really…it wasn't. It sorta felt natural in some ways, like we were made to be with each other.

Our Restaurant had also opened in the frenzy of our new relationship, causing everything to become jumbled up together. Life was good at this point; Little Italy (our restaurant) opened to a packed house and continued to thrive every single night. We were getting good business and our new step into love was flourishing.

"Hey, you got a little chocolate sauce on your face."

"Where?" He said, frantically rubbing his mouth while setting his bowl of ice-cream on the coffee table.

"Right," I leaned over and licked his lips. "Here."

"Dante," He whined. "You're too sexy for your own good." I still expected it to be weird.

But it just…wasn't.

"I'm too sexy for my shirt?"

"Yes. Yes you are."

"Does that mean we can stay in tonight then?"

"No."

Last week I had opened my mailbox to find an invitation to none other then Spacey Wilson, asking us to come to his premier art show. How did he even get our address?

"Oh come on! Do you really believe Casey Wilson, Spacey, would have art on display?"

"Art or no art, he's the only one either of us got along with in high school. I think we owe him at least an hour."

"But…what about the crowds?"

"I'll deal."

"You say that now…"

"Look, I'm sorry about our date last week. Just…this girl bumped into me and I kind of…freaked."

"We were at a concert; those things are bound to happen Nero."

"I know, and I said I was sorry."

"And then you started mumbling again, saying all these crazy things. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine."

I'd been extra worried about Nero in the last couple weeks, he was having trouble sleeping, doubling up on rituals, and in random intervals he'd have breakdowns and start talking crazy.

"Are you sure you don't…you know…want to see somebody?"

"I'm not crazy Dante. I'm different." I wasn't sure what the exact differences between the two were but if Nero didn't want to go then I wouldn't make him do something that made him unhappy.

"Alright, let's get ready then." Nero and I spent an hour or so contemplating on what kind of outfit to wear to a art show. We considered dressing up, looking like we had actually money.

But neither of us felt like pretending tonight.

We considered dressing down, purposely wearing street clothes to stand out.

But Nero noticeably paled when I said 'stand out.'

Finally we settled on semi-casual wear, black jeans and nice polo shirts.

"We look like twins." Nero said cheerily.

"That a bad thing?" I asked as the two of us got into my new (used) truck.

"Nope. Man, I'm so excited to seem him! I can't believe he drifted all the way out to Los Angeles!"

"Well, he's a nomad, kinda like us, and most nomads tend to drift towards this city, that's why I love it here."

Nero nodded in agreement as the two of us sped off.

The art hall, as it turns out, was very…artsy.

There were weird looking sculptures out in front with crowds of artsy looking people standing around drinking martinis. My first thought was 'this definitely doesn't seem like a place Spacey would hang out at.'

Imagine my surprise when I see spacey, long hair combed and pushed back, adorned in a blazer and black jeans.

"Spacey!" He turned towards us with a signature lopsided grin, shuffling our way.

"Hey little dude, long time no see. Haven't heard that name in like, forever man." Alright, he still sounded like a pothead.

"How you been?" I asked with an awkward smile.

"Chill dude. I have girlfriend out here, she's really the one that introduced me to all this stuff. Turns out it was my calling. Speaking of which," He offered a sad smile. "I had a dream last month that called to me, told me all the shit Kyle spread about you two in high school. Not cool man. I never believed any of it."

"Uh…"

What are we supposed to say? Back then it wasn't true but surprise! We really are gay! For each other!

"Well…" Nero started, grabbing my hand nervously.

"Dude?"

"We're kinda…"

"Oh!" He said with a laugh. "Oh, well, it's cool brothers, don't take offence or nothin but I'm pretty sure half the dudes in this room swing the other way too. I think that kind of thing should flow however you choose."

"Spacey," I smiled. "I don't care what anyone says, you're pretty smart."

"Thanks man…I think."

"No problem."

"Alright, so take a look around. Oh! And next month, I'm having this big party type thing at my girlfriend Kyrie's house, you two should totally come."

"Sounds cool." Nero agreed, looking a bit nervous when the crowd in the room got bigger. Spacey nodded, turning around to schmooze.

We ended up taking a look around for ten minutes before Nero felt anxious enough to high tail it out of there.

I didn't mind much, I didn't understand anything about art.

Later that night, Nero brought out a book about art through the ages and read to me. Just to annoy the hell out of me. In return, I made him read bits and pieces of breaking dawn by Stephanie Meyer.

He was scarred for life.


	15. 14

A slight intermission

Things at the restaurant were going great, business was more or less booming.

Every week we met new and exciting people, each giving us thanks for conjuring up such a classic, nice restaurant where they could come to eat well for decent prices.

The staff and I also pretty much got along, all except one of the cooks, Sid, who had an apparent temper. But he was a great cook. So I let it slide.

Nero didn't come down to the restaurant often, not unless I really asked him to. He preferred staying in doors most of the time, working on school work and trying his hand at cooking. Last week he had made me this adorably romantic dinner, complete with candles and Latin music. Nothing topped the way I felt that day. I was so…happy. So, so, so happy. I was happy with Nero. Nero was happy with me.

We were…in love.

* * *

I put out alot of chapters because I'm going to be busy getting ready for school and I didn't want to leave you hanging.


	16. 15

"We're off to see the wizard! The wonderful wizard of OZ!"

"Is the singing necessary?"

"Is the man-perfume necessary?"

"It's cologne. And you said you liked it!"

"I also said I liked your shirt last week but…"

I turned to him with a defiant glare.

"Kidding!" He laughed. "Jeaze, somebody's uptight tonight. Shouldn't I be the one worrying? I've been spazing out all week, even when it's just the two of us."

"Exactly. I'm worried for you."

"As much as that warms my heart, I think I'm plenty worried for the both of us."

"You're the one that insisted we attend Spacey's radical party." I pointed out.

"I know, I know. I just never think these things ahead. Maybe that's my problem."

"Not thinking things ahead?"

"Yeah. Maybe I just need to get myself in the game, try to think clearly before I throw myself into social situations."

"I think that's the opposite of your problem Nero. I think you're thinking too much, setting the bar so low that you have this morbid mentality."

"Or maybe my brain just isn't working right…"

"Quit saying that. You're not some mental patient. You're my boyfriend."

"Yeah," He said with a dazed smile. "Sometimes I forget."

I punched his arm lightly. "Come one, let's blow this popsicle stand."

Nero giggled, hopping into the car after me.

Upon arriving to the party I immediately noticed two things: the apparent smell of pot and alcohol and the loud booming metal music. "Quite a shindig." I said in awe.

"Yeah." Nero agreed, equally baffled. It also became quickly apparent; with in five minutes of arrival, that find Spacey (or anybody sober) wouldn't be easy to track down. Luckily his girlfriend Kyrie (who we had only seen briefly) greeted us at the door.

"Dante! Nero! I'm glad you two could make it!" The both of us waved, feeling slightly awkward and unsure as we entered the crazy party house. "Casey wasn't sure if you two would come!" She yelled over the ever increasing noise. "Said you didn't like parties!"

"Nero insisted." I grunted.

"What was that?"

"I said, we wouldn't have missed it for the world!"

"Oh," She laughed. "Well I'm glad the world didn't stop you!"

I actually really liked Kyrie, she was kind and polite and very welcoming. She didn't judge us or look at us accusingly. She was just…a genuinely warm person. "So…where's Spacey?" Nero asked as we finally made it out into the backyard. I gagged at the sight of several couples making out and/or having sex in the Jacuzzi.

"Well…he was here a second ago."

The three of us heard the sounds of chanting and sure enough, a group of guys were calling out Casey's name. "Oh no." She groaned.

"What?" Nero and I asked. Our gazes followed her index finger as it pointed straight at the roof. Spacey was up there, of course, both hands on his hips as if he were superman.

"Case! What're you doing?"

"Babe, I'm going to do a back flip into the pool. Fuckin radical!"

"Casey," She once again groaned. "You're going to hurt yourself. Again."

"No! I can do it this time, watch!"

Kyrie's face suddenly went slack and pale. She looked like she was having a heart attack. We watched as Casey 'Spacey' Wilson, sprung up backwards, flipped, and landed in the pool unscathed.

At that moment, I thought that maybe, just maybe, pot gave you super powers.

The whole crowd of drunkards and pot heads cheered in slurred chants and odd clapping.

Spacey sprung up from the pool dripping wet, smiling crookedly. "See? I told you I could do it."

"At the expense of giving the three of us heart attacks, primarily Kyrie, who looked like she was going into cardiac arrest." I pointed out.

He turned to us beaming, unphased by my last comment. "Oh hey guys, when did you two get here?"

"Just now." Nero said timidly. Apparently the crowd was beginning to affect him.

"Cool dudes. You up for some blaze?" Kyrie slung her arm around his waist, hugging him tight.

"Uh…"

Smoking weed? Not exactly me or Nero's scene. But then again…it could loosen him up a bit.

"Sure." I answered, realizing I was doing what Nero and I were discussing earlier: not thinking ahead.

"What?" Nero hissed as we followed Spacey into the house.

"Maybe…it could help?"

"How would getting me stoned help?"

"You'll be more relaxed?"

"I'll more out of it, you mean."

"Look, I don't know what else to do," I whispered into his ear as the four of us made our way up stairs, Spacey and Michelle chatting animatedly just ahead of us. "I know you want to have a good time and I know you can't help being nervous. I just want you to be happy."

It was true, my intentions were good. And if this whole thing blows up in my face, that's the excuse I'll use.

"Fine." Nero surrendered. "But if I don't like it then that's it. We're out of here."

"Deal."

Spacey and Michelle eventually led us into one of the room's upstairs, smoke floating through the cracks in the door. Just on the other side, the door revealed a slightly psychedelic room, full of lava lamps and bean bags.

"We call this the safe haven room. It's our safe haven dudes."

A few other people occupied the room as well, each passing around joints and taking hits off a huge (wonderland-esque) bong. "This is Lady, Agnus, Patty, and Enzo. Guys, this is Nero and Dante, two friends from highschool."

"Radical." The blond Patty remarked.

"Come join our circle, dudes and dudettes." Enzo offered.

The four of us joined the circle, greeted by four smiling hippie faces. "So," Agnus took a hit, pushing up his 70'-esqu bottle glasses. "What brings you to nomad land?"

Funny how they saw LA like we did. I guess you had to live here to get it.

"We own a restaurant."

"Totally," Lady remarked, taking the joint from Agnus and taking a hit. "Meat sellers I'm guessing?"

"Well…yes…"

"Don't hound them Lady." Kyrie took the next hit.

"Yeah," then Spacey. "The way of life says the food chain is like god, man, we don't get to decide, things just happen."

Finally the joint ended up in my hands, I stared down at the little burning thing, heart beating fast. I kept thinking back to those old 'this is your brain on drugs' commercials. Wondering what my brain would be like on drugs.

Hesitantly I lifted it to my mouth and sucked in far too much for far too long, coughing when the smoke burned my throat.

"The media's like that man." Agnus said.

"Like coughing after taking a drag?" Enzo asked.

"No, like a food chain."

After a moment my composure had come back, passing the joint off to Nero. "Take it slowly." I whispered. He nodded and shakily clamped his mouth down over it, inhaling slowly and exhaling quickly.

"True that," Patty chimed in. "The media thinks themselves above, the only power greater than god, therefore they can chew us up and spit us out. Just like the world can. Just like your mind can."


	17. Oh you guys hope you like

Two hours later Nero and I were what you would call 'baked.'

It was a weird feeling actually, like we were… detached. The air around us was thick but light at the same time. The lighting suddenly seemed florescent. Even the conversation seemed more interesting.

"You two are in love." Patty pointed out.

Both Nero and I merely laughed. "What?"

"You're totally in love. I can see the aura all around you, like floating halos."

"Doesn't that…"

"Creep you out?" Nero finished.

"Love should flourish man! It's a blossoming flower that needs constant water and sunlight, keep watering man, you might just get the perfect garden."

"I didn't really understand a word of that but I'm pretty sure it was deep."

The eight of us laughed.

"You know what isn't funny? The government." Agnus said suddenly. And even though he said it wasn't funny, we all laughed anyways.

Including Agnus.

"Seriously guys, they're turning us against ourselves. They want you to hate yourself because it leaves you wanting more. That's when they step in with their conformity and ignorance. Fuckin compressors."

"Maybe they want you to be like this Ag, spazing out over their hold on society. They're already controlling your thoughts!" Lady pointed out.

"Totally." Everyone agreed.

I looked at the time on my cell phone, double taking when it said one o'clock. "Shit."

"What?" Nero asked.

"It's late, we have to get going, I have work and you have school work in the morning."

"Whoa, you two aren't thinking about driving home are you?" Spacey asked.

"Uh, well, yeah."

"Nah man, there's a cab service around the corner, I'll call you guys one." Spacey picked up his cell and started talking into it slurred and rapidly.

"You look really hot tonight." Nero whispered into my ear.

"Uh…thank you?"

"No really." He giggled. "You do."

"Well, not half as good as you."

"Such a charmer."

"I try."

Nero giggled once more before leaning in to capture my lips. It was a more insistent kiss then those of previous, a bit more lustful. We'd made out a couple times in the last couple months, nothing too far, usually leaving me, admittedly, wanting more. But this time I felt that Nero was the one wanting more, enticing me by the way his mouth parted slightly and his hands were gripping my shoulders. His lips felt chapped and wet and urgent, like he had to kiss me or his life depended on it.

Of course, it's hard to have a moment when you have a audience.

When the two of us finally pulled back, we stared at the group of hippies and stoners.

They stared back, mouth's agape.

We smiled impishly.

They continued to stare.

"Radical." Patty finally said and the eight of us laughed.

"Your cab's already probably here dudes." Spacey said, clearing his throat.

"Oh. Right." Nero and I got up, feeling a little dizzy for one reason or another.

"We'll catch you guys on the flip side?" Nero offered. I noted that his anxiety had completely vanished.

"Totally." Patty agreed.

"Come back anytime wandering nomads. The safe haven always welcomes glowing souls." Raz offered. He nodded and we made hesitant peace signs before Spacey, Kyrie, Nero, and I left the smoke filled 'safe haven.'

We skipped down the stairs, pushing through drunkards and weirdo's alike, eventually ending up on the front lawn, a few feet from where our cab was waiting.

"It was really cool having you dudes here, keep in touch, there'll be more parties to come." Spacey said with a smile.

Kyrie gave us both hugs and sent us off to the cab that was already paid for on Spacey's account.

"Well that was…"

Weird?

Crazy?

Radical?

"Fun." Nero finished.

Not exactly the word I'd pick but hey, it was half the truth.

"So you had fun then?"

"Yeah…I think I did. But I don't think I'm cut out to be a stoner Dante."

"Good, me either."

The cab driver was unusually quiet most of the way there, Nero and I tried filling the awkward silence with giggles and miscellaneous conversation. The both of us were smiling and holding hands.

Then, out of nowhere the cab driver started singing. Singing! Of all the crazy things. By the time we were stopped in front of our apartment, Nero and I hopping out of the cab laughing like idiots.

For a moment, we didn't care what was going on around us. We didn't care about the horde of cats fighting just down the street. We didn't care about the fact that neither of our parents had even cared enough to call at least once since we moved out here. We simply didn't…care. We both in our own little bubble, our own little perfect world that only consisted of each other.

I opened the door and pulled Nero in.

Right when the door closed, he attacked me with a feral growl, immediately prying my lips open with his tongue. He shoved me up against the nearest wall, unashamed and unafraid, launching the make out session into teeth, tongue, lips, and groping.

He clutched my head insistently and I gripped his waist with equal fever, pushing him so that we were walking towards the bedroom. It was like a deadly tango, the two ofus, tangling legs as we entered the bedroom and Nero pulling me onto the bed without a second thought. Shirts went flying and saliva was going all over the place.

Suddenly Nero's hand traced my inner thigh, going up, up, up. I tensed up, grabbing his hand suddenly while panting. "We can't."

"Yes we can."

"No, we really can't."

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I do."

"Then we can."

"Nero…not now. Not when you're not completely coherent."

"Let me tell you a little secret." He leaned in and licked the shell of my ear. "I'm not high anymore, it wore off like, an hour ago I think."

I caressed his soft face, panting into his neck, pulse racing harshly. "You're crazy you know that?"

"That's the idea."


	18. i'm so sorry

The next day I awoke to an empty bed.

My thoughts immediately turned to Nero. Last night had been wonderful, we took our time (like most inexperienced virgins would) and things were a bit awkward at first, we were still trying to work through tidbits of health class and outrageously incorrect pornos.

Hey, nobody ever said sex was perfect.

Sure, it's been glorified and commercialized and publicized but by no means has anyone ever said it was perfect.

My theory: I don't believe in the perfect sex, only the perfect partner. Somebody who makes you feel good, even when they're talking dirty. Preferably somebody you know (I mean, how many times have you heard somebody say they had a good one night stand?) Sex is something you never tire of, another concept that the media has warped. What you start to tire of is the person. You can have sex with somebody five times a day but if you don't actually love them, then eventually they'll bore you and disappoint you and you'll lose faith in something humanity was never supposed to lose faith in.

But if you love that person and they love you back then I believe sex with them will never get boring because love keeps you on your toes even when you lose sight of it. Love keeps getting more exciting as you go along, one day I think 'I can't possibly love Nero more then I do now' then the next day I'm proven wrong.

So to sum it up: you can have sex with anyone, anywhere, but how many times after that first encounter would it still be exciting? Three? Four? Then what happens? You throw the person away like a piece of candy that's lost it's appeal and look for a different flavor.

So, that's how I know I love Nero. I know sex with him will never get boring. I know everyday I'll still be standing on my toes and each day I'll love him more then the last.

In metaphorical terms: Nero is my everlasting gobstopper, his flavor will last forever and I'll never crave another candy for as long as I live.

"Never." I whispered, smiling and jumping out of bed. I was suddenly in the mood to go out. I wanted to climb onto rooftops and swim in the ocean, I wanted to buy Nero ice-cream and giggle like a school girl when he spill's on his shirt. I wanted to write him a love letter or a cheesy poem or sing him a goofy song about my feelings. I wanted to throw my dignity away and act like a fifteen year old love sick girl!

"Nero!" I called cheerily.

I heard an 'hm' come from the living room. I wonder how he'll react to my temporary break in sanity. I wonder if he'll throw something at me or be flattered. Maybe even a combination of both. I waltzed into the living room where I could hear mumbling.

My eyes grew to the size of soft balls. "Nero?" I whispered.

He just sat there, mumbling and shakily holding a sharpie. The entire wall was covered from top to bottom with words and pictures and crazy symbols.

"Better left unsaid." He whispered.

I approached him slowly. "Nero?" I tried again.

"Things, things, things, things!" His hand was shaking violently, as was his whole body. "Different, different. They're left unsaid. Different. F-found the difference. Look. Have you looked? I haven't looked. I can't look. I-It's the difference. The difference is different." Nero sat there, looking around the room, everywhere but at me. He held his sharpie like a knife, afraid for some reason that I would try and attack him.

"Nero baby…"

"B. Number two. Two, the number of times I touch the fridge. Two, the number of people in this room. Two, the number of differences. Differences. Different. Different. Different!" Nero was shouting now, holding his sharpie like he was going to stab me.

I couldn't believe something like this could happen. I couldn't believe a human mind could become so twisted and warped. "Nero, it's me," I pleaded. "I would never hurt you, I love you baby, please snap out of this."

"Snap? Snap. Snap. Snap, picture. Snap finger. Out. Difference. Difference and picture. Difference and finger. Snap."

I took another hesitant step forward, unsure of how this situation will unravel. "Let's go take a nap Nero; I'll curl up next to you in case you have a bad dream okay? How bout that? Does that sound good?"

"No!" Nero screamed causing me to flinch. "I d-don't want a fucking nap I want everything to shut up! Shut up!" He clutched his red ears, rocking back and forth violently and stabbing the wall with his marker. I stepped forwarded once more. "P-Please shut up. Please. I c-cant take it. I can't. Please."

He looked so entirely broken at the moment. His face was scrunched in horror and his whole body was spasming and curling up into the fetal position.

"Nero," I squeaked. "It's alright. Everything's going to be alright, just calm down. Please."

"Nothing will be alright." He whispered. "Nothing will ever be alright."

"It will Nero, it will. I'll make everything alright. I'll make everything better."

"Make it go away Dante. Make the craziness fuckin go away!"

I knew I was way over my head and I knew I had no idea what to say or do. I knew things would only get worse.

I knew everything was fucked up.

I ended up wrapping my arms around Nero until he finally fell asleep right there on the floor. After his breathing was peaceful, that's when the silent tears finally came, agonizingly slow and painful. This wasn't my first brush with what I'd been pretty much avoiding for the last five months. Little did I know things would get far worse.

In the weeks to come, I'd try to convince Nero to go to a therapist on more then one occasion.

He wouldn't listen to me; he'd merely shake his head like a stubborn child and insist he wasn't crazy. I wasn't sure what else to do. I couldn't force him and I didn't want to. For one thing, I was still convinced I could fix him. I also didn't want him to be angry with me, I loved him after all, I didn't want him to be unhappy.

To top everything off, we had a big time food critic coming in a few weeks and it was mandatory that Nero be there. Nero in turn was freaking out; he hadn't even left the house in week.

"Babe, maybe it'll help if you, y'know, take a walk. Maybe it'll calm your nerves."

"I don't know Dante; I think I'm turning agoraphobic."

"Nero…"

"You can't even deny I'm crazy anymore! Look at how one phone call from my parents made me snap!"

And that was the roots to last week's fiasco. Nero had received a call from his father, and all he had to say was that his son was a failure that he doesn't have any right to visit nor get in contact with them.

Ever.

I was so pissed at his father that last night when we were laying in bed, I thought of all the ways I could kill him. Hang him by the neck. Throw him into a vat of acid. Strangle him slowly and menacingly…

So, maybe these thoughts weren't healthy but isn't it true that if you can love somebody with crazed intensity that you could another person with just as much fervor?

I would like to think so.

"Your parents are worthless. Nothing. Scum. They don't even deserve to have your name come out of their mouths."

"Right."

"You need to listen to me Nero! I know you trust me but I can tell you don't believe me! Please."

"I'm trying. I really am."

"No, trying would be leaving this house and going on a walk with me. That would be trying."

"Fine. But only for you. Always for you."

"I know."

And with that, I took Nero's hand and the two of us finally left our apartment.

"What do you think my parents thought when they decided to have kids?"

"That they finally had something they could mold and control absolutely."

"No really, do you think they were happy?"

"Maybe. Before they discovered parenting was actual hard work. That's probably around the time that they gave up."

The two of us made our way out of the complex premises and just down the street where a little park was. The playground was empty, considering it was eleven o'clock at night.

"I wonder why Credo didn't turn out as messed up as I did."

"Credo was plenty messed up, he was just better at hiding it."

"Maybe. I haven't heard from him at all, I wonder if mom and dad got to him."

"He's a pretty weak person then."

The two of us sat on the swings, cold air hitting out faces. "Dante?"

"Hm?"

"Do you really think I'm losing it?"

"I think you're different Nero. We both are. That's why we work so well together."

"But if being different was a good thing, wouldn't everybody tell you instead of making everyone the same?"

"Some people…are afraid to be different because they stand out."

"I definitely get that."

"But," I finished. "I think it's better to be happy then something your not."

"But the latter is easier."

"Maybe," I agreed. "But it will only kill you in the long run."

"How so?"

"Remember what Lady said about the media chewing you up and spitting you out, just like the world and your mind? Well that's the consequence."

"It's better then walking in a of crowd soldiers, disappearing in your own insanity." He whispered.

The both of us swung into the air, staring up at the crescent shaped moon.

Later that night we had sex again. I think it may become a fairly frequent thing; hormones can control any teenage boy after all.


	19. 18

The day the food critic was set to come, every one of us was running around frantically, like the entire world was going to end.

Meanwhile, Nero was sitting in the corner looking every bit as nervous as a drug addict.

"We need everyone on deck! He's going to be here in five minutes!" Sid announced.

The waitresses all hustled around, trying to look calm when their eyes sold their worry. The cooks manned their stations in the kitchen, like a clean cut platoon. And Mr. Morisson, Nero, and I stood at the entrance.

"Boys," Mr. Morisson said sternly. (Funny story, he actually found out a few weeks ago that we were a couple, interesting enough he laughed it off and said his brother liked to take it up the ass too.) "I believe in the both of you. I have from the beginning and I will no matter what this stuffy old guy says."

I smiled up at him while Nero continued to twitch nervously. It's funny, the half a year we've been out here, Mr. Morisson has become more of a father to us then our real fathers have. He was the kind of dad you wanted. The kind you needed. He believed in us when nobody else did, not even ourselves.

I wondered, from time to time, what kind of life Mr. Morisson had before he came to America. He'd mention once that he was married but obviously he wasn't anymore. He also mentioned, very briefly, that he had a son.

Maybe that's why I always see him as a father figure.

"Thanks Mr. Morisson, I really appreciate it."

His words had lifted the worry right off my shoulders, I felt ten times more confident. I just wish I could say the same thing about Nero, who was shaking violently.

"Nero, babe, you need to calm down, if you work yourself up-"

At that moment, the entire restaurant went silent as the food critic came strutting in like he was the president. He was a husky man, very unattractive to say the least. The first words out of his mouth were a demand that he get a table in the middle of the room, so everyone could stare at his lard, apparently.

I knew, just by a couple passing seconds, I wasn't going to like this man.

"I'll have two orders of potato soup, exactly one fourths cups of bacon bits on top, one half cup of sour cream and extra cheese. On the side I'll have two loafs of bread and of four slices of room temperature butter. Lastly, I want a diet coke, easy on the ice." The husky man, Stan (as everyone kept reminding me) said once he was sitting.

I could see the look one the waitress's face; clearly she was fighting the urge to let her jaw hang slack open.

We all were.

"This guy is unbelievable." I whispered to Nero who was standing next to me, clutching my hand for dear life.

"I don't think I want to stay here." He hissed. "I feel really nervous."

"Just hold out for like an hour babe, then we can go home and have crazy sex."

Nero didn't laugh. He didn't even smile. To be honest, he looked ready to pass out.

"One hour." I repeated and he nodded, clearly trying to make me happy.

After about ten minutes, the other people in the room started conversing again, setting us back into the 'restaurant atmosphere.'

Once the meal had gone out to the food critic, I was sitting there, chewing my nails like they were pieces of gum. He sat there, face blank, observing the food before taking a taste. His face was still blank. He took another taste. Still blank.

I decided then that I should go over and greet him, be polite, ask him how everything is going. "Sir, I'm Dante Sparda, partial owner. I just came by to see how your meal going?"

"Fine." He grunted, clearly not a man that likes to be crowded.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"Well had a few question."

I forced a smile. "Shoot."

"Where do you see this place in ten years?"

"A place where families can come, once it gets past the whole 'date' plaster."

"I see. And I've been informed by one of my colleagues that you are homosexual. How do you think that will affect family customers?"

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Was this guy supposed to be asking personal questions? And what kind of 'colleague' knows our personal business?

What the fuck?

"Uh…"

"And how often do you plan on coming in? In your case, I'd say less is better."

"What?"

"Further more-"

Suddenly I jumped tenth feet in the air when I heard Nero cry out from across the restaurant.

"Excuse me. I'm talking to you."

"Yeah…"

"Anyways, I was suggesting you change the service so that it's much quicker…"

My attention just wouldn't focus on the food critic. From the corner of my eye I could see Nero covering his mouth, crying and shaking.

"Hello? This is outrageous! You're not even listening to me!"

But how could I? When Nero came running towards us like he was being chased by serial killers.

I reached out and stopped him before he could run past me. "Nero, are you alright?"

He shook his head wildly, trying to push past me.

"Nero…calm down!"

He clenched his eyes shut, trying desperately to get past me.

"Nero…"

I watched, pretty much in slow motion, as he puked.

All over the food critic's table.

Everyone in the room gasped, looking over at us in silence. It was like…like watching a train crash, very, very slowly. Everyone was staring and whispering, the food critic was screaming and Nero was caught in the middle, crying.

I knew these sorts of things happened, they happened many times before.

Sometimes nerves tend to get the best of you, I didn't see why everyone had to freak out though.

"This is a disaster! Get this freak out of my sight!"

Nero whimpered, running off as quickly as possible.

"Get out." It was said in an unrecognizable tone. It was menacing. It was full of fury. It was the bottom line.

"Excuse me? You can't kick me out; I'll make sure this place goes out of business!"

"I don't care! You disrespect him, you disrespect me. Now you get your lard ass out of my restaurant before I beat the living snot out of you!"

Every gasped (again.) I didn't care.

"Mark my words young man. You're finished!" The tubby man gave me a glare before promptly exiting the restaurant.

I turned from the crowd of gaping people, planning to search out my broken boyfriend.


	20. 19

Nero, as I observed, never fully recovered from the incident.

I had found him, hiding in the back of the kitchen, half insane. It'd taken me a week to nurse him back to semi-normal. Eventually his old self came back, somewhat, to the point that he wasn't catatonic at least.

I realized, at that point, that he was still the boy that I met at the mall all those years ago, still looking at himself through the eyes of people that hate him.

I wondered if he would ever finally change, finally see him the way I do.

The Sunday after the food critic had stormed out, a review finally showed up in the LA times. It wasn't easy to digest.

Los Angeles public,

I have seen hell and hell's name is Little Italy. The restaurant was poorly kept up with mediocre food and horrible service. I can literally say the service bombed.

All over my table.

I wouldn't eat here again if my life depended on it. I don't think there's even a single good thing I can say about this restaurant.

I warn you all, you eat there at your own risk.

– Stan Martzer

I promptly ripped up the newspaper and through it in the trashcan, suggesting instead that the both of us should go hang out at the park.

The two of us found our places on the swings, not caring that it was pouring rain outside, I think the water was a bit…refreshing.

"Can I ask you something?" Nero asked as we swung back and forth through the wind and rain.

"Yeah. Anything."

"What would you do if I were…gone?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like if I suddenly got hit by a car or something."

"Nero, I don't even want to think about that. Not even for a second."

"But you must of thought about it at least once in your life."

"Never."

I stopped swinging, wiping the dripping water from the crease under my nose. "Where exactly is this come from?"

Nero stopped too, staring up at the sky and blinking rapidly as the water fell into his eyes. "I've just been thinking a lot recently, about the future. About us. About myself."

"Are you alright?" I asked hesitantly

"I don't know." He said honestly. "It's like I'm falling into this black pit of nothingness, where nobody can hear my screams, nobody's even looking. I feel like I'm nothing but an oddity, bound to always be different from everyone else. Even you."

"What are you saying…"

"Do you believe in god?"

Well, that was a quick change in subject.

"Yeah. Sometimes I feel him. I used to think it was nothing but a scam, that he just wasn't real. Then I figured out religion was the scam. Just, religion."

"If you are right," He whispered. "Why do you think he made me this way?"

"Society made you this way."

"No, I used to think so, but now I know it's wrong. Just like Lady said, your mind can swallow it's self."

"Lady was a pothead!"

"But…I think she was right. I think my mind is swallowing its self. I just want to know why god made me this way. Why?"

"Nero he didn't…"

"Maybe it's because I'm gay, I mean, not bi-curious or bi-sexual like you. Full fledge gay, I've pretty much known my whole life."

"What? You think he's punishing you?"

"It's a golden explanation."

"Nero, god doesn't punish, god forgives…"

"Lies. Every single one of them."

"If he was punishing you, why would he put me in your life, why would he give me the duty of being your guardian angel?"

"Because I can never have you. Not fully. I just…don't deserve you. I don't even deserve to live."

"Don't say that! Don't ever say that!"

"Do you want me to tell you everything is going to be okay? Well it isn't. I'm fucked up. Different. I'll never be normal."

"I don't want you to be normal! What, you really want be like everyone else? Like the rest of them! They're nothing. They feed off ofother's anguish for sick amusement. They laugh and pick at the weak. I don't ever want be like them. You shouldn't either."

"You just…don't understand."

"Then help me understand! Please. I'm standing here, giving you everything I have and you're still shutting me out. What do you want me to do?"

"Let me go."

I looked up as lightening flashed, causing the stars to look like a million sparkles for a short second. I thought about our childhood, our escape to LA, that time in the bathtub, the first time we had sex, the way he makes my heart flutter. I pictured a smile plastered across his face instead of a frown, looking at me with sparkling blue eyes, just like the stars above.

I realized he was the other half of my heart.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. "I can't."

The weeks following our rainy day at the park, Nero became increasingly quiet and subdued. I knew, deep down inside, this was the calm before the storm.


	21. 20

The weeks following our rainy day at the park, Nero became increasingly quiet and subdued. I knew, deep down inside, this was the calm before the storm.

Today had been one of those long twisted days, where every hour kept stretching on and on and one bad thing kept happening after another.

First I over slept. Then I spilled coffee all over my clothes while trying to run to the restaurant. Later some bitch had complained that her food was disgusting and she wanted a refund (the place was mostly dead after the article.) Sid was pissed at said bitch and threatened to quit if I didn't make her leave the premises immediately. Eventually the bitch left when I agreed to let her go off with out having to pay her bill. (dumb bitch.) And lastly I had randomly received a call from my father telling what a failure I was. Thanks dad.

Now the only thing I could focus on was getting home and falling onto my bed like it was a pile of money. Maybe even have Nero cuddle with me, he had been feeling pretty sick lately, who's to say a good cuddle wouldn't cure him? I smiled, opening the door and imagining the feel of my bed against my back.

"Nero!" I called cheerily.

No answer.

It was completely quiet in my apartment, no TV or music or any sign of life. Then I noticed a dim light coming from the partially cracked bathroom door. I grinned, practically skipping towards the door. Maybe he was taking a bath. Maybe I could join him.

"Nero," I crowed. "You wouldn't believe the day I was having." I carefully pushed the door open. "There was this bitch and-"

That's when my whole world crashed. Everything became blurry and dark and overwhelmingly frightening. All these images kept flashing through my head as some defense mechanism designed to block out the horrible image in front of me.

I couldn't breath.

I couldn't hear.

I couldn't comprehend what was happening.

"Oh god!" I cried, plunging at the bathtub. Nero Eques, my best friend and lover, was in the bathtub fully clothed and underneath the red tinted water. His eyes weren't blinking and bubbles weren't surfacing.

I didn't think or breath, I just pulled him out. I was fully aware of the tears falling down my face, causing my vision to blur and be pulled out of focus. I tried desperately to remember tidbits of what I learned in high school about CPR and what to do. The steps were becoming clearer as my panicked brain worked overtime.

I placed my hand on his forehead and two fingers on his chin to open the airway. Then I plugged his nose and covered his mouth with mine, breathing out slowly and watching as his chest rose in response. I started adding the chest compressions while breathing in and out, in and out.

Come on please, please don't die on me! I love you so much goddamit, please don't die on me!

Then, as if my prayers were answered, Nero took a deep breath of air as if he were a new born baby.

I started sobbing erratically, hugging him closer to my chest –despite his fragile state- vaguely aware of the blood seeping onto the floor.

"Nero." I sobbed.

"Nero." I couldn't articulate anything further then that; my brain was still trying to catch up with what had just happened. I couldn't stop crying if my life depended on it. I just kept clutching him tighter, like if I let go he may drift away and fall out of existence. Nero didn't show any recognition for awhile –beyond sobbing- he just sat there like a plate of spaghetti, not returning my embrace at the least.

It wasn't until the 6th time I sobbed his name that he actually spoke. "Dante." He whimpered.

A million different emotions coursed through my body when Nero said my name. The most prominent being rage. How could he do this to me? How could he think about leaving me? I couldn't go on with out him…I…I couldn't live…

"I hate you." I sobbed, knowing full well I didn't mean it. I just needed him to hear it. I knew he didn't believe it either.

"I h-hate m-me too."

Oh god, how did it get so bad? One second we're living happy lives and the next everything is falling apart. Was I not enough for him? What more would he want?

"P-P-Please," I cried. "Tell what to do. I'll do it. I'll make it better." I pulled back to look at his beautiful face. It was so distorted with misery and depression that I find myself wondering how I couldn't have seen this sooner. What kind of person was I? I couldn't even tell when the love of my life was unhappy.

"I-I'm broken." He whispered through choked tears. "I'm broken." He sobbed. "I'm broken. Nobody can fix me. I don't know what else to do."

"I'm not going to let you die," I hissed. "I won't. I refuse."

"Y-you've already lost me."

I wanted to punch him then. I wanted to hit him, kick him, or at the very least pinch him. Of course, I decided against such brash actions, considering the circumstances and all. "No I haven't," I decided that clutching his shoulders and forcing him to look at me would be more then okay. "You're right here. Right in front of me. I can see you and feel you and smell you and hear your beautiful voice. You can not say other wise."

"But my m-mind isn't here."

"Its here Nero," I sobbed. "Its here, it's just lost, I'll help you find it though. You're not alone. I'll help you. Let me help you!"

Nero didn't answer my last plea causing me to feel more frustrated by the moment. "Nero please, you c-cant leave me."

"I d-don't want to leave you Dante."

"Then why are you doing this to yourself?"

Nero looked up at me, straightening his posture a bit. "M-my mind is on fire." He whispered. "I-I'm going crazy. Like m-my whole world is being swallowed in a black hole."

I hated the world at that moment. I hated all the bad things that went on. I hated the godless streets and sayings like 'bad things happen to good people.' I hated my stupid parents and all the support they never gave me. I hated Nero's parents for every time they called him a freak. I hated religion and long days and bitches that scam me into giving them free meals.

But most of all I hated love.

I hated it so dam much.

I hated how much power over me. If Nero moved then I moved. If Nero cried then I cried. He was pulling my strings like a marionette. If he died, I died. But then if I thought about it further I'd figure out that my life would be worthless with out love, without Nero. I'd be an empty shell, living life as unhappily as possible.

Nero completed me.

He completed me in every way possible.

He was the other half of my heart.

I looked down at Nero's arms, finally noticing the blood. I took a hold of his left arm gently, eyes widening. The word DIFFERENT was carved into his tender porcelain skin.

I lifted the arm slowly, raising it to my lips. Nero clenched his teeth and shut his eyes as I kissed every bloodied letter softly. I wasn't exactly thinking rationally at the moment.

Maybe I was going a little crazy myself.

I just couldn't bare the hate he held for himself. He hated himself because he was different. But I loved him for the very same reason.

"Nero," I whispered as he opened his eyes slowly.

"We're going to get through this."

And for the first time in many years, he looked like he was ready to push past all his deep dark fears and finally believe me.

The scene darkens and over shadows, the lights dim harshly. The entire play comes to a close.

* * *

I really was so close to just killing off Nero and ending this a whole different way but, then I wrote this instead of what I planed. Maybe it's for the best I should write a happy story once in awhile and you know, not kill off Nero.


	22. 21

An epilogue of weird proportions

I held onto my boyfriend's hand tightly. "I love you."

The moral to this entire crazy story was simple: I couldn't help Nero all by myself.

I shouldn't have even tried.

He deserves better then that. I know that now. He was hurting, both physically and mentally, he was hurting.

A few weeks after Nero's breakdown I finally took him to a psychiatrist, Dr. Lincoln, somebody the both of us had come to trust. And over time, with intense therapy and minor medication, Nero had begun to get better.

He finally started to believe in himself.

But most of all (and not to sound conceited) I think it was me that helped him after all. He needed somebody to reassure him, to be there for him and that was my role. Who knows where his life would have ended up had I not been there to catch him when he fell?

Then again, the same thing could be said about my life.

Anyways, a year after Nero had begun to get better, I got down on one knee and asked him to marry me, I'd decided I'd waited too long as it is.

A year after that it was official with a small wedding in Vegas. Neither of our parents had attended, except my uncle Virgil, but like graduation: we just didn't care.

We were tired of looking at ourselves through the eyes of people that hated us and decided we'd take what we've got. Spacey and Kyrie, Mr. Morisson, and my uncle Virg. An unlikely family but a family all the same. I suppose we were all nomads in a way, all migrating to Los Angeles where everyone was different. But I've come to find that all the best people are.

Dare to be different is my motto.

He looked over at me, the both of us sitting fully clothed in an unfilled bathtub, just like old times.

"Sometimes I still can't believe how lucky I am to have you. You're crazy, you know that?"

I smiled.

"That's the idea."

The end.


End file.
